The Letter
by Skyla13
Summary: One letter changed everything, forever. Can Natsume reverse what he's done, and still keep Mikan safe?
1. Chapter 1

Hello.

:)

So, I feel like shit.

It's actually really depressing. But, I have transformed it into a...

STORY.

YES.

And no, this isn't the sequal to Junkyard Dare.

And if you thought that while clicking...

than you're stupid.

;)

JUST KIDDING.

No, really.

READ.

and

REVIEW.

SAVE A FREAKING NARWHAL.

Okay?

* * *

"_I never knew that everything was falling through."_

_++Skyla++_

* * *

Mocha eyes widened as the 16 year old took in the sight before her.

A note.

A simple, college ruled piece of paper with unmistakable writing scrawled across it.

Mikan would know that writing anywhere.

Anywhere at all. It was Natsume's handwriting.

Her heart dropped, and the girl suddenly found it hard to swallow.

Something was wrong. She knew it. Something was horribly, terribly wrong.

Crossing the room slowly, she reached his fire charred desk, and shakily reach down to pick up the letter. He had told her to meet him in her room.

She was on time. Early even. But Natsume had expected it. The 17 year old boy had prepared, or so it seemed.

As she pulled the paper up so that she could read it, her vision blurred, and Mikan smiled a strangled smile. His writing was wild and unruly, and it was apparent on the paper in her hand.

But as soon as she started to read on, a choked cry rose from her throat, and a few clear tears slid down her face, leaving behind shiny trails in their wake.

As she finished scanning the page, Mikan simply crumpled to the ground, legs together, and her arm helping support her body.

There was no way. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her…

Oh God, please. He loved her. Mikan sniffled silently, body quivering slightly in the silvery glow of the moon that flooded in through the window.

No. He was lying. The little bastard was just messing with her.

She stared, wide-eyed, out the window as her stomach began to feel fluttery; and not the good kind.

It was the feeling you get when something horrible is about to happen, or you are being forced through something traumatic.

Please, oh, please. No.

She raised the letter up once more the read it again.

_Polka,_

_I think it's time I moved on. You're no good for me. You slow me down, and you're a burden. A god awful burden. I know I said I loved you. I lied. I led you on for too long, and I think you were beginning to actually believe me. All those nights we spent-forget them. I have. In fact, I never remembered them. You're nothing to me. I'm not sorry for anything, but I regret giving you false impressions for the past 4 years. Polka, you need to learn how to be a better girlfriend. You're annoying. You're loud, and you're downright idiotic. Don't try chasing me, I'm gone. I'm not coming back to Alice Academy. If you manage to find me, I'll burn your ass. Got it? Forget everything; I never wanted you. _

_Natsume_

It was all there. Dammit, no. He was a dirty liar. Mikan argued with herself, tears now rolling swiftly down her red tainted face. There was no way.

But as she read his note for the third time, it all sunk in. He didn't want her.

He lied.

Mikan had lost everything to him.

And he was a liar.

Now the girl wasn't silent.

Broken sobs spilled out of her, and she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them close to herself.

Her heart was ripped open, her chest aching longingly, and throat closing up so that swallowing was difficult. Her arms shook gently, and Mikan's shoulders shook with the cries that were racking her slender frame.

There was nothing that could console her. She might as well be nonexistent.

She felt sick, and like she was about to puke. Shit.

Anger flared through her before dying down. It probably was her fault. She knew all of the things the raven haired boy had written were true.

She deserved this.

Getting up silently, Mikan trudged over to where Natsume's bed was, and dropped onto it; curling up in his Special Star blankets and extra soft pillows. His smell lingered over everything, and the brunette continued to sob, wetting her headrest.

There was nothing more she could do. Every ounce of will has escaped her.

Mikan was broken.

And she was so messed up, she didn't notice the tear stains on the paper, and the scratched out 'sorry' on the back. And she probably never would.

* * *

Natsume blinked slowly, narrowing his crimson eyes at Persona, who was walking ahead of him. He bowed his head and increased his head so that he could catch up with his sensei.

He had left Mikan. The only girl he had ever loved.

The only girl he _could_ ever love.

All because of Persona the Douche.

~~Flashback~~

"_Natsume." Persona called, a sly smirk set coyly on his dark lips._

"_What do you want now, you prick?" The boy muttered, preoccupied with his thoughts. Tonight was he and Mikan's 5__year anniversary. He was still debating on what to do for her._

"_Calm down, little kitty. You know that pretty little girl of yours?" He questioned, anger flaring in his tone for a few moments._

"_What about her?" Natsume was still in deep thought._

"_She's distracting you from mission. Last week you almost failed, Kuro Neko." The taller man reprimanded._

"_I still succeeded, didn't I?"_

"_Not if this keeps up."_

"_Whatever, son of a bitch." Natsume snarled, crimson eyes swimming with fury._

"_I'll say this simple. Either you get rid of her, or I will." Persona's smirk progressed into a smile, and he had a unnerving expression on his face._

"_Don't you lay a hand on her, you shit bag."_

_The teacher shrugged. "That's up to you, little black cat."_

_Natsume looked away, his breath threatening to give way._

"_Fine. Don't touch her. I'll take care of her." Came his mumbled reply. The boy's nose crumpled, and his throat tightened slightly. _

_~~End Flashback~~_

Natsume's eyes watered; luckily his black tresses covered that. Persona couldn't see he was so broken up over the baka.

His heart was stabbed, and his stomach hollowed out. He felt like shit.

Like shit on a hot day.

Like mother fucking, fucked up, douche of a disgusting piece of prick-ish shit.

He hated himself.

He should have rebelled. Taken Mikan.

Persona turned sharply and disappeared into a warehouse of some sort; the black cat followed.

Inside, Natsume shoved over a rusted chair, his vision blurring dangerously.

Not once in his life had he cried.

No. He was lying. He had shed tears while writing her letter.

Writing her a letter had killed him.

He had stayed a few moments, watching in the bushes as she read his fake words.

A lone tear wormed it's way down his cheek as he looked on at the girl he so desperately loved.

After seeing her crumple to the ground in despair, he had turned, walking to where Persona was waiting.

Nothing would ever make him feel this disgusting again.

Nothing could.

They had arrived in London a few hours ago, and it would stay like that.

Natsume couldn't come back.

The two lovers would stay broken.

Broken forever.

* * *

DAMN CHEESY ENDINGS.

FUCK YOU COMMON CONCLUSIONS.

So, I have developed foul language.

BLAME TANNER.

Aha. :)

So, I'm sorry if it was depressing. I poured some actual damned emotion into this.

So, please. Give me feedback.

:D


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys. I haven't submitted anything in awhile. New chapter to _The Letter_.

Short, yes, but I promise I'll be updating this story as much as I can, with longer chapters.

Let me know what you think~

* * *

_The Letter_

**CHAPTER 2.**

* * *

_"I know my kingdom awaits, and they've forgiven my mistakes. I'm coming home."_

++_Sky_++

* * *

Crimson eyes stared at the tall man, emotion void from their depths.

"I killed the woman, and got what you wanted."

In the dim room, the only light was a small desk lamp, switched on to bask a small portion of the space in it's yellow glow.

The person sitting at the desk had dark shadows cast over his face, making him nearly unrecognizable. He smiled slyly, blinking once before speaking to the crimson-eyed man.

"Natsume. You've done very well, my little Kuro Neko."

Natsume fought a grimace at his sensei's pet name for him, and a low growl-like noise started in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, the words soft, even though he intended them to be curt.

"Is she safe, Persona?"

For once, pain seemed to show in his eyes, but he blinked it away, struggling not to show emotion towards the seated man.

A low laugh came out of Persona, almost menacing in sound. The sound of a drawer opening and shutting again was followed by the rustling of photo paper.

"Look for yourself." He spoke shortly, flinging a few photos onto the desk.

Natsume hesitated when he reached for them, his fingers making gentle contact with the delicate paper. He picked them up, angling them towards the light so he could see the picture's subject better. It was a woman, her long, soft brown hair cascading down her shoulders, a wide smile across her face. It was a candid photo-she was with a few girlfriends.

The next picture was her again, this time alone in her apartment, and it appeared to have been taken from a rooftop, the grainy photo revealing the extreme zoom lense that had been used. This woman looked different, her hair piled on top of her head, eating alone, her head low. She appeared to be crying, but Natsume wasn't sure. However, his something flared inside of him, wanting to hurt whoever had made the girl look like this. In the background behind her, he spotted a picture…of himself.

"Mikan…" He whispered softly, almost inaudible even to himself. A sharp pain split across his chest, and he clenched his unoccupied hand into a tight ball.

"You can leave now, little kitty." Persona broke the silence with his dismissive tone, waving a hand as to send him away. Natsume narrowed his eyes and stalked out of the room, opening a door to release himself into a dank alley. It was early in the morning, as it always was when he finished his missions, and London was still a busy mess. It had been 2 years since he had come here. 2 years since he had written that note to Mikan. 2 years since he had died, but was still physically present.

The only reason he was still alive was due to the fact that he was the only thing standing between Mikan and death. Persona had been assuring her safety every time Natsume completed a project for him. His boss had verified this via pictures of Mikan, taken by his henchmen. The 19 year old took another look at the pictures in his hand, and he hesitantly trailed a finger along Mikan's smiling face.

Tears pooled in his unusually colored eyes, and he collapsed against the cold, stone wall of the alley, sniffling quietly to himself. Natsume sunk to the ground, tenderly holding the picture close to his slender frame. He gasped at the cold winter air, trying to hold his emotions in, but things began to slip.

First, a tear rolled down his cheek, and another followed. A few moments later, and he couldn't hold it in anymore. Natsume, the famed black cat, was crying. His shoulders heaved with reckless abandon, and he drew his arms around his knees, burying his face into them. He couldn't do this anymore. 2 years had been too long.

He had told himself that he could live without the idiot, but with the scene at hand, it was obvious he couldn't.

The boy stood suddenly, wiping his tears away before taking of through the streets, roughly pushing everyone out of his way. He would see Mikan. He narrowed his eyes as adrenaline coursed through his veins, heightening his revelation.

There was something he had to do first, and that was to find out where she lived. There was only one person that could help him. Stopping at a telephone booth, he dialed a number he knew by heart.

"Ruka. I need your help."

* * *

Okay guys. It's shorter than I thought, haha. Review?


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